where’er my good eye trips,
it’s stuff obstructing other stuff –
another damn’d eclipse!
* Of the year 2019
One L.A. gang with Bloods did bang
but never came to grips
with being boss’d. In time they lost:
the Destined Crips Eclipse.
Down pub, me ale well serves to veil
me plate o’ cod ‘n’ chips.
Miss Molly moues this poser, “Who’s
the Batter’d Fish Eclipse…?”
On telly, forty films. Oh, Lordy!
Fleets of fighting ships
fly – fled, en shroud, through banks of cloud:
the Battleship Eclipse.
Coda
Coda
My well’s run dry. No more shall wry
bon
mots flow from these
lips.
My fans remark: “Your light’s gone dark:
‘tis Smitty’s* Quips Eclipse.”
* That’s N. (“Jim”) Smithe-Magee
(the N stands for ‘Nonsense’)
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| Eggcentric Blues: The Blue Leggoon & a Blue Leggume |
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